


The Price (Prize) of Success

by Opalsong



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (kinda), Alternate Universe, Audio Format: M4B, Audio Format: MP3, Audio Format: Streaming, Close Canon, Consentacles, Contracts, Fairy Tale Elements, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Other, Overstimulation, Oviposition, Podfic, Podfic Length: 45-60 Minutes, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, but with Elder Gods and Tentacle monsters, tasks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-09-18 11:43:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16994364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opalsong/pseuds/Opalsong
Summary: When it comes time for Yura to make his contract with an Old One, he chooses wisely.





	The Price (Prize) of Success

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arioch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arioch/gifts).



cover art by Opalsong

### Streaming Audio

Click the mp3 link for streaming.

### Download

[MP3](http://opalsong.parakaproductions.com/podfic/Yuri%20On%20Ice/The%20Price%20\(Prize\)%20of%20Success.mp3) | 48:25 | 33.6 MB  
---|---|---  
[Podbook](http://opalsong.parakaproductions.com/podfic/Audiobooks/Yuri%20on%20Ice/The%20Price%20\(Prize\)%20of%20Success.m4b) | 48:25 | 46.3 MB  
  
### Music

 _Lux Tenebras, Next To The Guardian, Dark Water, Ending Agrippa, Basement Storage_ , and _Hub_ by Mikko Tarmia

### Crosspost

cross posted at amplificathon, my journal, and AO3

_ Once upon a time, in a world very like our own (though a better, purer one) a boy lived with his grandfather.  The boy and his grandfather were not the poorest in the city, but they didn’t have a lot of money. This would have been fine, they had enough to get by; but the boy loved to skate.  He was very good at it too. The boy dreamed of skating in competitions, like the ones he saw on tv. But training and coaching took money, and that money was running out. _

_ Then one day the boy’s coach sat them all down and talked to them of the Old Ones.  Everyone knew about the Old Ones, of course, but their coach talked to them about worship and how picking the right Old One to pledge yourself to could make or break your career as a skater.  Most of the students looked nervous at such a big decision and the coach told them to talk with their moms and dads about it. But the boy had only his grandfather; and he didn’t want to worry him. _

_ The boy, being the over achiever that he was, did his research.  Did Lots of research. And found the Old One he wanted a contract with.  _

_ The boy waited until his grandfather took him to the temple district, to worship his own Old One.  Then the boy slipped off and visited a small temple off the main street. The temple was opulent and shiny, smoky inside with incense and a smell he couldn’t place.  There was only one priest, and they were dressed in clothes that covered less than girls’ skating outfits! The boy still couldn’t tell if they were a boy or girl because they looked mostly like a boy but also they were very pregnant.  He decided it didn’t matter (unless they told him it did). _

_ The priest explained what the price was and what the worship entailed and what benefits he would receive.  The boy knew these things because he wasn’t an idiot. The priest asked him if he was sure.  _

_ “Yes” he said without hesitation. _

_ The priest took him into the Old One’s lair and the boy pledged himself to it.  He couldn’t see anything but the priest said he wouldn’t until he was at least a senior competitor.  Nor would he pay any prices until then (unless he failed). (If he wasted its generosity on mediocrity he would pay a high price when he got older.) _

_ The boy returned to his grandfather, who had been searching frantically for him.   The boy’s grandfather took one look him and went pale. _

_ “Yura, what did you do?” he gasped. _

_ Yura opened his hands on a bundle of bills and a new card in his name.  “I can skate now.” _

***

Yuri still couldn’t believe he had won.  His first senior gold was from the Grand Prix.  Yuri practically floated into the temple. It had been a week since the competition and he was finally back; finally able to truly pay his Old One for the support it had given him as a junior skater.

He trembled slightly but lifted his chin as he walked into the smoky, sensual atmosphere of the temple.  He knew smell that lay under the incense now; sex. Desire, need, desperation. These were the things his Old One required in payment.  Along with success.

Yuri never feared the Old One’s displeasure, never feared a lack of success.  He scoffed at the thought of needing enhanced Ability or Luck or any of the numerous other things his fellow skaters prayed for.  He succeeded on his own merit. He merely needed the means to live and support his family while he did so.

He entered the inner temple, the place where the Old One’s manifestation slept.  It still startled him to see anything but smoke and shadows. He had been here often as a junior, giving his medals to his Old One to consume.  He had become used to seeing nothing. But this past year, as a senior, he had begun to see shapes in the shadows.

He couldn’t truly comprehend its shape (the only way an Old One was comprehendible to mortals was if it diminished itself enough and Yuri didn’t pledge to one that would cater to weaklings), but he what he could make out resolved itself in his mind to a writhing mass of tentacles.

He walked to the center of the room and let his gold from the Grand Prix dangle from his outstretched hand.  As a junior, the medal would be pulled from his grasp by the fog and he would feel an extra tingle of energy.  As a senior, he’d only delivered silvers and bronzes. A tentacle had reached out and tugged each medal away from him and he’d felt the tingle of approving energy but no more.

Total success was the true price.  (though many people felt the right way to contract with this Old One was to get only second, truly avoid the price for success and wealth.  Yuri did not care about the true wealth this Old One could bring, the amount he gained now was more than enough to support his grandfather and his skating; but he did care about success.  He would be no less than the best. No matter the consequences.)

The whole room seemed to pulse and warm at the glint of gold.  A tentacle snaked out and wrapped itself around the medal, sliding over the surface to inspect it.  Yuri could feel the Old One’s pleased rumble in his bones; it vibrated through him and stirred up all sort of feelings.  Mostly the heady pleasure of success.

The medal was tugged out of his grasp and he let it go.  He tried to step back but couldn’t; tentacles were wrapped around his ankles.  He shivered at the feel of them on his bare skin, damp and warm. Strong.

He stayed where he was.  Shivering intermittently as more tentacle slid over bare flesh.

He was naked.  All offerings to his Old One were done naked.  This was the first time it had touched him.

He shivered again.  He thought maybe he liked it.  (He didn’t not like it at least.)

The tentacles were sliding over him with lazy intent; brushing his nipples and wrapping around his cock.  He shivered harder and tried to stop from bucking into the touch.

A tentacle nudged his mouth and he opened for it; in this moment he was a vessel for his Old One, that was how this contract worked.  This tentacle was glowing faintly in the dim light. A silver gleam that oozed into Yuri’s mouth as it lay on his tongue. It tasted metallic.

He relaxed all at once as he swallowed and moaned softly when the tentacle pulled back.  He hung in the embrace of the tentacles around his arms and legs and waist. He couldn’t have run, even if he’d wanted to.  Which he didn’t.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw another metallic tentacle, bronze this time.  It looped itself around his cock before nudging at his balls.

Yuri whimpered and let his head hang down to watch.  He couldn’t help thrusting into the grip as much as he could.  He’d never felt anything like this. Then the bronze tentacle slithered back even further and nudged at his ass.

Yuri outright moaned at that.  He’d never tried playing there.  Not yet. But it was the first thing on his to try list now; this felt fantastic.  The tentacle had left trails of bronze slick everywhere it touched and now it smeared itself around his crack and hole, getting everything slippery.

By the time it nudged its tip inside, Yuri was panting and letting out constant little moans; twitching his hips and trying to grind back onto it and into the grip on his cock.  But it didn’t go any further. It sat just inside him and pulsed for a moment before withdrawing. He whined and tried to grind back but the tentacles held him fast.

Then, out of the mist, came another tentacle.  This one was less defined than the rest, Yuri’s mind shied away from really parsing it.  But near the tip was a glowing form (was it under the skin? Attached to the end? Part way down and not at the tip? Yuri forced his mind back to the grip on his dick and how frustrated he was at the lack of ass play and everything became more solid around him, losing the blackspots to his vision).

The golden tentacle trailed across his body.  It felt like it hit every erogenous zone he had.  He was shuddering and whining by the time it reached his ass.  He tried to spread his legs and couldn’t. But it didn’t tease like the bronze one had.

Yuri gasped in pleasure as it breached him.  It pushed deep (which should have hurt, Yuri knew it should have, but his mind shied away from thinking about why it didn’t).

It was then that it sat there, unmoving.  Yuri writhed as much as he could in the tentacles; pulling on them and bucking and trying to get it to move.

Then he felt something stretch him out at the rim, slowly opening him wider and then sinking inside.  What?

It moved deeper in him.   Was this the golden glow he’d seen?

It scraped past his prostate and that was it for Yuri.  He was overwhelmed with pleasure, spurting onto the tentacles gripping his cock and bucking wildly as the object continued to push deeper into him.  His vision went black and he must have passed out for a moment.

When he was able to focus again the last of the tentacles were just leaving, supporting his waist until he could stand on his own.  He stood there, shivering with aftershocks for a moment before taking a step backwards.

Something grazed his prostate and he stumbled; only his innate (and cultivated) grace saving him from a bruised tailbone.  He could feel something heavy inside him.

Yuri breathed out a sigh, he carried the golden egg of his Old One within him.  A sign of favour and success. He truly was the golden goose of Russia that the media had been calling him for years.

He shook himself and blinked back the pleasure; set his hips and walked.  He lifted his chin. This was only the first of many.

It was worth it.  Totally worth it.

***

Yuri cried out as the egg was pushed in along side the others; he’d been coming almost before the Old One even touched him.  He was sure the egg wouldn’t fit, he was stuffed to the brim. But the egg pushed in and jostled the rest, pressing them harder against his prostate and every other sensitive place inside him.  He screamed in pleasure and came for the second time in ten minutes.

As he came down he hung in the tentacles, shivering weakly.  He couldn’t do this much longer. He’d been a senior skater for years now and kept winning gold.  The eggs sat in his ass, brushing up against him and keeping him open. He was aroused all the time.  But he got over it, because he wanted to be the best. He kept skating and kept winning and kept getting stuffed with eggs.

But his hips had stopped working as well with the last egg, they were pushing for space, spreading his hips like he was pregnant (on bad days Yuri was sure there was a bulge in his stomach where they pressed against his skin).  They were starting to interfere with his skating. Which was unacceptable.

Yuri knew the legends of the Old Ones, the cautionary tales told to kids.  Stories about Old Ones who gave and gave and gave and asked for only scraps and bits in return, only the scraps and bits added to an impossible price in time and when the worshipper couldn’t pay, they took all that was given and more in interest.  Yuri had no desire to be one of those idiots. He wouldn’t push this until he was unable to skate, and he wouldn’t abandon his Old One either.

The tentacles retreated and Yuri collapsed to the ground, whimpering as that jostled the eggs inside him and coming again, the wash of pleasure weaker but almost painful with his oversensitive nerves.

He heard a moan to his right and rolled his head to the side, shivering under Beka’s gaze.  Beka had won gold in Russia (Yuri’s gold was from Skate Canada) and they’d met in the temple.  Yuri had presented his gold first, wanting to get it over with and had completely forgotten about Beka when the overwhelming pleasure began.

Yuri crawled out of the offering circle.  His eyes rolled back at the pleasure from the eggs moving inside him.  Beka helped him to the side, propping him against a wall with a good view.

Then Beka stepped into the circle and let his own gold dangle from his fist.  This was Yuri’s first time seeing the offering from an outside perspective.

He let his hand drop to his cock and cup it at the sight; Beka was wrapped in tentacles, limbs pulled taut, mouth open and gasping.  He arched and moaned as a tentacle wrapped around his cock and squeezed. Then he opened his eyes and stared at Yuri as a tentacle fed itself into his mouth and he started to suck, drool leaking from the corners.  Yuri flushed but couldn’t tear his eyes away. His hand squeezed his cock slightly and he flinched, clenching down on the eggs inside him and gasping at the overfull, too sensitive feeling.

Then the tentacle breached Beka and he moaned, loud even around the tentacle stuffing his mouth.  He kept moaning, bucking and writhing as Yuri watched the golden egg push past his rim and disappear inside him.   Beka locked eyes with him and screamed as he came, muscles pulling taut and entire body going rigid before suddenly going limp.

***

_ The boy gasped as his friend was released from the Old One’s grasp.  He knew this was the time, he could not continue to succeed with his body pushed to the edge as it was.  With great effort, he pushed to his feet and re-entered the offering circle where he gracelessly collapsed to his knees and begged (demanded really, Yura was too aggressive to truly beg for anything when not out of his mind with pleasure) for an end to the incubation. _

_ The boy, man now really, shuddered as a tentacle slid over his flesh and tilted his chin up. _

_ The answer he received wasn’t in words exactly, but he knew.  He knew that the Old One was pleased with his stamina and his success.  That the road to ending his incubation would be a difficult one; and one meant normally for those ending contract with the Old One.  Yura rejected that. He didn’t want to end his contract, just to regain his former mobility. _

_ There were three tasks to be completed.  The first of which- _

_ Yura giggled with hysterical relief. _

_ The first was to obtain the medal that achieved the Olympic Short Program Record.  A medal that belonged to Victor. _

_ The boy pushed himself, unsteadily, to his feet and offered his friend a hand up.  His friend rose faster than expected and ended up nose to nose with him; one hand on his stomach, pressing lightly upon the eggs inside.  Yura cried out and bucked, nearly collapsing if not for his friend’s support. _

_ His friend asked how many he carried.  He carried no few himself, but didn’t have the record of success that Yura did. _

_ Yura told him and his friend buried his face in Yura’s neck, hand resting lightly on his abdomen, and murmured “You are astounding.” _

***

_ The first task was simple.  The boy and his friend ventured to the house of his mentor. _

_ When they reached the door they were greeted by his mentor’s partner, one of the boy’s heroes.  The partner, who shared a name with the boy, offered them hospitality and asked after the boy’s grandfather. _

_ The boy and his friend stayed for a long time, waiting for his mentor to return.  As dinner turned into evening and his mentor still did not return, the boy became antsy.  As he began to move around (“Stop pacing Yuri, he’s at the rink, of course he’s late”), the man who shared his name noticed the hitch in his step, the hesitation and stiffness of his movements. _

_ When asked, the boy attempted to deflect, but for all his seeming softness and passivity, the man who shared his name was relentless when it came to those he cared for.  The boy revealed his plight and the man who shared his name was both relieved and worried further. When told of their quest, he rose from the couch and went to a back room. _

_ He returned with a medal and offered it to the boy and his friend. _

_ The medal was bronze. _

_ How could the medal that held the Olympic Record for Short Program be bronze?  When the boy expressed disbelief his mentor’s partner smiled and referenced his own performance at their first Grand Prix together.  Didn’t he break the record for Free Skate and get silver? Being the best in one moment does not predict total success. _

_ The boy took the message to heart. _

_ He took the medal and thanked the man who shared his name, which shocked the man and yet left him smiling at their quiet exit.  The boy and his friend would be fine. _

***

Yuri presented the Old One with Victor’s bronze medal (he had warned Yuuri that he wouldn’t be getting it back but Yuuri hadn’t seemed too worried and Yuri was desperate enough to not care if Victor disagreed).  He stood naked in the center of the offering circle and let the bronze medal dangle from his fist. He could feel Otabek’s eyes on him, couldn’t forget that he was watching like he had last time. He shivered and clenched the hand not holding the medal to stop from covering himself.

His dick was half hard and was getting harder every moment he stood there, naked with Otabek watching.  He hadn’t been completely limp in months because of the eggs.

Then the tentacles came, taking the medal from his hand and draping themselves over him.  He could feel the Old One’s pleasure rumbling through his bones, setting the eggs to vibrating, and he cried out and sagged into the tentacles; dick fully hard now with the stimulation.

He lost himself to the sensation of the tentacles and only blearily opened his eyes when he heard Beka gasp, a stifled noise of pleasure escaping.

When he focussed (as much as a human ever could) on the tentacle in front of him he moaned in equal parts desire and trepidation.  The tentacle was large and bulging, leaking bronze fluid from its tip. The shape was abnormal, the tip more like a plug than anything.

Yuri’s legs twitched, unsure whether to try and open further or close.  The tentacles around his ankles and thighs held fast, removing the choice either way.

His eyes rolled back as the tentacle pushed into him, nudging the eggs and setting them jostling inside him.  The tentacle stretched his rim far beyond anything he had ever felt, slowly and inexorably pressing deeper. Yuri cried and moaned, sweating and trembling at the stretch.

Then the head of the tentacle popped fully in, Yuri’s rim closing around a much slimmer continuation; it was nestled inside him.  Yuri writhed on the plug for long minutes; both overstimulated and unable to finish without just something a little more.

Then he felt the warm splash of something inside; the tentacle was releasing the bronze liquid.  The plug began to pulse and as it did, Yuri could feel the fluid inside him press against the eggs and his inner walls. 

An egg pressed firmly on his prostate and Yuri came, no tentacles around his dick, only the one in his ass providing stimulation.  He bucked and shot come onto the floor.

But the tentacle did not stop filling him.  Yuri’s eyes rolled back as the pleasure continued, pushing and pressing the eggs into him and expanding inside him.  He could feel his stomach truly expand and knew he would look like he was carrying at least one child within him.

The pleasure seemed to go on forever, Yuri was certain he passed out in the tentacles’ hold only to wake later.  All the while the process continued.

But eventually, the filling slowed and dripped to a stop.  Yuri moaned in relief. But the plug did not withdraw and allow him to drain; there was a loud snapping sound and the tentacle retreated in Yuri’s vision, plug still inside.

Yuri sobbed; cock still half-hard and drooling, unable to withstand the constant pleasure coursing through him.  As the tentacles retreated, Yuri sagged to the floor sobbing and sensitive.

Beka was there, picking him up and supporting him.  He could feel it, Beka’s sweat and breathing and hard, unfulfilled cock against his thigh.  Yuri brushed his thigh more firmly against it and Beka cried out in pleasure. Beka pulled back though, because Yuri shivered unpleasantly at any sensation against his skin, oversensitive.

“the second task?” he asked.

Yuri sobbed and told him, resigned to living as a priest in the temple for as long as his body could hold out.

***

_ The second task given to the boy appeared to be impossible; the boy had to set a world record and bring the prize as offering. _

_ The boy despaired.  He was unable to skate, or at least not well.  He could not even truly walk without stumbling and crying out in a mix of pleasure and pain.  How could he beat a record, either the one he created himself, the one that had born the first egg inside him, or the one that the man who shared his name had set in the same competition. _

_ The boy’s friend took him home and they lay on his couch, the boy overfull and almost weeping and his friend consoling and idealess. _

_ For weeks the boy attempted to get up each morning and skate and for weeks his friend helped him to the rink and caught him when he fell. _

_ Eventually, they boy’s coach forbade him from returning until he was well again. _

_ To distract him, his friend bought a cat.  For he knew that the boy loved cats and he had become fond of the cat that lived at the boy’s house.  Unfortunately, he did not think this plan through, his apartment did not allow pets. He had planned to invite the boy over, allow him to play with the cat, and distract him from his woes for an hour or two each day.  But now his pet had no where to stay. _

_ When the boy found out he offered to house and care for the cat, because he did indeed love felines.  And it was this that allowed the two to find the solution to their problem. _

_ Several weeks after the as of yet unnamed pet came to stay with the boy, he sighed, sprawled on the couch, unable to walk without crying out in pleasure. _

_ “I wish I could get a world record for how much I loved cats,” he said plaintively and his friend was so shocked that he fell off the couch. _

_ For it turned out that while the Old One wanted a world record, it had not specified that it be for skating. _

_ It was the work of several days, then a week of waiting for a representative; but then Yura became the new record holder for amount of eggs from this Old One.  Easily quantifiable by the number of golds he won. If there were those who had held more, they were lost to history or chose not to flaunt their success. _

_ The boy cradled his prize against his swollen belly and cried in relief.  _

_ There were more ways than the obvious to win. _

***

Yuri staggered into the offering circle, held up mostly by Beka.  He shuddered every time he shifted his hips, the eggs sloshing and brushing his prostate.  But soon, soon he would have release.

Beka backed off and Yuri held out the prize for his world record.  The silver glinted in the low light. It had been an awkward and uncomfortable meeting and inspection.  Happily most of the inspection was of his history of competition and not of his body, but that did happen.

It was over now though.  And now he would get the third task and then this would be over.

The tentacles retrieved the prize and curled around him while it went back to the Old One.  They held him up and he allowed himself to sag into their hold.

He let himself drift.

A tentacle nudged at his lips and he lazily opened his mouth, the tentacles were supporting him in a position where nothing pressed anywhere; he was finally free of sensation. 

The tentacle slid inside and began to seep fluid.  One swallow and Yuri began sucking hard, needing more; the fluid numbed him, made the sensation from the eggs a distant memory.

He drank and drank, glutting himself on sweet relief.

Then he screamed.  Beka swore and asked what was wrong but Yuri couldn’t understand anything.  The eggs had begun to pulse, each time pressing directly on his prostate. The fluid no longer suppressed the sensations and either the momentary relief was backfiring or the fluid made everything more sensitive.

The eggs pulsed and Yuri screamed around the tentacle in his mouth, coming hard.  Only to orgasm again as the eggs pulsed again.

He bucked and shuddered, shaking and out of control.  Coming again and again.

Slowly the eggs settled into a low hum he could feel through his entire body.  He was covered in come and yet his dick was half hard still.

Otabek caught him as the tentacles let him go.  Yuri stared, unseeing at him for a long minute.

“Two weeks and this will end. Two weeks,” he sobbed into Beka’s shoulder.

***

_ The boy’s friend helped him home, back to bed.  The boy was shivering constantly and shuddering intermittently; hips rocking forward and then flinching back.  His eyes were glazed with pleasure that would not abate. _

_ On the way the boy told him of the price, how this would be an easy task and, with desperate hope clear in his voice, how in two weeks the trial would be over.  He would be free of his burden and could skate again. _

_ “But what is the representation of our relationship?” his friend asked. _

_ That stumped the boy.  But he remained confident that he would find it, and then give it to the Old One in return for his freedom from this torment.  He had two weeks, that was plenty of time. _

_ A week later the boy lay in his bed, unable to move without shaking himself apart, and was still at a loss.  His friend sat with him as they watched the Worlds. The boy bemoaned his absence. _

_ His complaints were derailed by his friend’s still-unnamed cat; who nuzzled into him, making him coo and hiss-at-the-pleasure in the same breath.  The cat sniffed and turned back to his friend, its owner and mewed in terrible betrayal at the lack of attention. _

_ Suddenly the boy rolled over, holding his mouth to avoid being sick.  That was it, the representation.  _

_ His friend called out in alarm but the boy was too busy holding back tears to answer.  How could he sacrifice the cat? They both loved it. _

_ Over the week that followed, the eggs did not let up and the boy writhed on the bed, unable to even walk if not absolutely necessary. And yet he resigned himself.  He would never skate again. _

_ But he wouldn’t sacrifice their cat. _

_ His friend was bewildered, the boy hadn’t told him of his revelation. _

_ They both went into the final offering with trepidation. _

***

Yuri didn’t want to do this, but he stood in the offering circle anyway.  There was no way for this to end well; either he sacrificed Cat (Otabek really needed to name it) to his Old One or he stayed in this state of shivery almost-completion forever.  And he wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this.

But he’d do it.  Because like hell would he sacrifice a living thing, a cat he and Beka cared for, to his Old One.  He’d picked this one specifically because it had never in recorded history required a living (or dead) sacrifice.  Only inanimate objects.

He trembled as he stood, the eggs pulsing rapidly inside him; every time he got used to their speed and pattern and strength, they’d change and he’d cry out and feel his knees go weak.  He hadn’t fallen. Yet.

His fist trembled as he held out the photo of the Cat.

“I couldn’t-“ he broke off when the tentacles came to investigate the offering.  He forced his voice to steady and firm, “I won’t sacrifice her.” The tentacles grasped the photo, more gentle than he’d ever seen them and all retreated back into the fog.

Beka gasped, “fuck, Yura.” But Yuri couldn’t acknowledge him right now.  It was hard enough to do this, knowing he was dooming himself to never skating again, never moving without being overwhelmed with sensation.  He couldn’t look at Beka and tell him that his love meant more than skating.

A tentacle emerged from the fog, just one.  It snaked its way through the heavy air to Yuri’s cheek and caressed it.  Yuri leaned into it. Despite this cruel final test, he’d never sensed anything malicious about this Old One.  Strange and incomprehensible sure, but it wouldn’t be an Old One without that. He’d always felt comforted in this room.

Then the eggs pulsed and the vibrations rang through him like standing inside a bell.

_ Approval. _

What?

More tentacles came rushing out of the fog, hurried but gentle as if trying to apologise for keeping him on the edge of pain and so desperate for so long.  He leaned into their caresses and let his legs finally collapse as the tentacles held him.

One of them rubbed deliberately across his dick and he screamed as he came, convulsing in their hold and arching; striping the floor with come.

The eggs didn’t calm though, they continued to pulse; bright, hot points of pleasure, rubbing against his prostate.  Yuri let himself sink into it now, knowing it would be over soon; that made the edge of pain sweet instead of dangerous.  A promise of so much more.

The tentacles brought him to the edge over and over, wringing every orgasm that he hadn’t managed to have while holding their eggs inside him out of him.  Yuri rode the high of bliss, never really coming down before they brought him to the edge again.

Eventually, one of the tentacles tapped his cheek.  When he turned his head to suck, it pulled away and tapped again.  Like someone trying to get his attention. He had to try twice before he managed to get his eyes open and tried to ask why around the one in his mouth. 

Then he focused and Beka’s worried face greeted him.  Beka was just outside the offering circle, not quite able to make himself cross the barrier.  He was worried and talking.

Yuri forced himself to focus, despite the eggs pulsing inside him and the tentacle fucking his mouth.

“Yura, Yura please be okay, say something, please I’ll give anything, let him go.”

Beka was babbling.  That wasn’t something Yuri had ever heard before.  He focused more and realized Beka was worried. About him.

That.

Fuck.

Yuri pushed at the tentacle in his mouth with his tongue and it retreated.  He gasped for a moment, catching his breath. Then screamed as another orgasm took him. Arching in the tentacles’ hold.

When he focused, there was come on Beka’s cheek.

Yuri moaned.

“I’m fine,” his voice sounded like gravel, raspy and used, “it’s okay.  That was the right answer.”

Yuri could see Beka’s knees buckle at the words, his face a mask of relief.  A tentacle snaked out and caught him around the waist, steadying him. Beka shivered and Yuri groaned as another wave of pleasure washed over him.  When he could focus again, Beka was inside the offering circle with him and it was no decision at all to lift his chin and kiss his friend.

Beka kissed back and Yuri felt the eggs begin to move.

Yuri felt like he was floating; tentacles around him, eggs pulsing inside him, Beka kissing him and marking up his neck, groaning softly into his ear.  He glanced down, eyes briefly catching on where Beka’s cock bumped at his own tentacle wrapped one, and realized that he was floating. Kind of. The tentacles had lifted him off the ground.

They spread his legs and Beka fit right up against him; the tentacles around his dick uncoiling briefly only to engulf both cocks and squeeze them together.

“Fuck I wish you could feel this, wish you were inside me, pushing them with your dick,” Yuri gasped into Beka’s ear.  He’d thought about it so many times. Beka groaned and bucked against him.

The tentacle around his waist settled heavily on his belly and even the light pressure made Yuri yell with pleasure.  Then it pressed.

Yuri screamed into Beka’s mouth as the eggs slid out of him.  They stretched him as they passed his rim and each one seemed to push into his prostate as it passed. The pleasure was overwhelming.  It was too much. Yuri wasn’t even sure he was coming. He blanked out; vision going white, ears buzzing with white noise, and unable to feel anything except for the waves after waves of pleasure as the eggs were pressed out of his body.

Finally it tapered off and Yuri came back to himself; feeling off kilter and out of sorts.

Beka was shuddering against him, gasping his name with awe in his voice.  He caught a glint of gold and saw an egg drop from Beka. He arched and clawed at the tentacles holding him, writhing with the pleasure that Yuri had just felt, staring at nothing.  Yuri leaned in and kissed at the corner of his mouth where drool was slipping out to pool on the tentacle looped loosely around his neck.

Yuri watched the eggs drop from his friend and to the-

fog.  Yuri’s mind hastily decided that the eggs were dropping into the fog around their feet.  He deliberately forced his eyes away from it and back to Beka’s face; he didn’t want to be caught in the Old One’s spell and lose his mind trying to comprehend what wasn’t for mortal knowledge.  Besides, Beka’s face was a sight to behold; fucked out and gasping. His eyes had closed when Yuri wasn’t looking and the drool was back.

Yuri kissed him again distracting himself from how weird he felt and whatever was happening to the eggs.  And Beka kissed back; shudders slowing.

They stayed like that for long moments before the tentacles retreated, leaving them to curl into each other and sink to the floor.

As they huddled together, coming down from the intensity, Yuri realized what was wrong.

“I feel empty. So fucking empty, Beka,” he whined, shivering and clenching around nothing.

“Then we’ll have to win some more, Yura,” Beka answered, holding him tight.

***

_ Most people bound to this particular Old One stopped active worship of it after undergoing its trials; free to enjoy the wealth it had provided them without the obligation to continue succeeding and setting records. _

_ Yura was the exception to every rule. _

_ The boy went right back to competing.  After a short period of toning and reworking he returned for the beginning of the next season of skating.  His competitors and friends were all overjoyed that he was well again, after his “lower body injury”. _

_ The boy flew across the ice, skating as if he was again just old enough to enter senior competition.  All the weight of success lifted from his frame and the pressure of victory removed from his muscles. _

_ All the world noticed that both he and his friend skated as if they needed victory to live; needed each other and utter and total victory together to survive. _

_ And when they finally won, gold hanging around each of their necks, they went to pay tribute once more; trembling with desire and clasping hands in love. _

_ The priest smiled and welcomed them back. _

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Paraka for hosting!!
> 
> Written and Recorded for Arioch for ITPE! (Funny story, when I first read your letter I think I read it too fast? Because I was CONVINCED that we had only Fairy Tales and Yuri on Ice as fandoms together. This obviously isn't true (I recorded you other things for ITPE), but while so convinced I was also convinced that to find the PERFECT fic I was going to have to WRITE IT MYSELF. So I did. I hope you like it.)


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